


248 - Angsty Announcement of a Second Baby

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Dad Van, F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 17:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17390195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompt "Y/n is excited to tell Van about her second baby but she hears Van saying he isn't ready for another baby but somehow Van finds out and feels bad." and another 'Van looks after Reader when she has a bad period' type scene for @vandrabbleforall





	248 - Angsty Announcement of a Second Baby

It took all your energy not to burst into laughter and snort loudly through your nose. On the laptop screen, Van was nowhere to be seen. In the tour bus, he had turned his iPad around to face a wall, but his voice called out to baby Duke. Duke stared at the laptop with such a serious expression that you were about to explode. He made small, very confused sounds. Every time Van said another word, made another sound, Duke would lean closer, until his nose was almost touching the screen. He'd look up at you and you'd just shrug. Then, Van appeared and Duke squealed the loudest, most high pitch sound on Earth.

"That never gets old," Van laughed, watching his kid through the magic of technology. You nodded in agreement. "Fuck. This does, but. All this Skypin' and phone calls. Always knew it was gonna be awful leaving, but… think my heart is breaking."

Bouncing Duke on your lap and letting him hold his teddy up to the laptop version of his father, you nodded again. It was all you could do. There was never anything you agreed with more. Van touring for the first time after Duke was the single worst thing to ever happen to you, which was saying a lot. Every single day, you watched the clock countdown to midnight so that there was one less day between you and Van. Every single night you'd hold in tears and curse at yourself for being so emotionally dependent on another human.

All the time apart resulted in a deep desire to keep Van close, to not let him back out into the world's worshipping embrace so quickly. It resulted in a need to make family the priority again. The solution had a face and when Duke was asleep and the house was in order, you could see it. She was blue eyed and freckled, even at birth. She was the little sister and baby girl and the protected. She was fierce in her own right, and God, she was wanted. Another baby. You wanted another baby and were willing to accept that about yourself, even if it wasn't entirely for the right reasons.

…

"I did not fucking miss this," you mumbled.

Van sniggered and you would've scolded him for it, but he was playing the part of nurse and hero and all round perfect human being. It was his starring role since he got back.

From your pile of blankets, you watched through the open bedroom door as Van juggled activities. He was boiling the kettle for tea and a hot water bottle for you. He was trying to locate the painkillers and your phone charger. He was muttering to your first born about how if you just had the same brand phone as him, there wouldn't be a problem. The eighteen-month-old baby on his hip laughed at his annoyance.

"Think that's funny, do ya? Think it's funny I'm tryna cook ya lunch and ya ma's in there in pain, yeah?" Duke laughed again. "You got your mother's nonsense in ya."

You couldn't see into the kitchen, but you watched Van walk up and down the hall. It was getting overwhelming though and after five minutes, he came in and put Duke on the bed. Duke happily crawled to you and Van left the room without saying a word.

When he returned, he put your tea down, pulled painkillers and a charger from his pockets and sighed hard. When everything was set up and sorted, Van rested his hands on his hips and looked at Duke, all settled in and sleepy.

"Babe, I gotta feed him," Van said.

"He had a late breakfast. He can sleep for a bit,"

"I just made… Yeah… Okay. Whatever," he replied with a nod and went to leave.

"Wait! Van. I'm sorry. Come here."

He looked at you and you could see how tired he was. When Duke was born, Van was all confidence; he was cocky, really. He said that a life of touring had acclimatised him to sleep deprivation. And yet, there he was, a year and a half later, exhausted and running on empty. His friends would pat him on the back and say things like, 'Looking rough, McCann.' You'd kinda always had a thing for that near-death, junkie look though. 

"I gotta-"

"I know you do, Van. You've always got something to do. Very busy. Important man. I know. But, give yourself a break. Five minutes in bed with the love of your life,"

"And Duke," Van added with a small smile.

"Wow. Ah, that's who I was referring to, but Jesus, are you caaaaaaaa-ute. Come on, Van. In."

Van grinned and climbed into bed. He snuggled down next to his son, watching him fall asleep. When the baby was dead to the world, you whispered to Van.

"Pass us the painkillers, please."

Van reached behind him to pick up your water bottle and pills. He watched you down three, then he swapped the items for your cup of tea.

"Can't be worse than childbirth," 

"Period pain? No. Same type of pain. Just like, less. Still fuckin' sucks," you replied. Van nodded. "Thank you. For looking after me. You know I'm just being a sook, right?"

"Babe. Look at him. You did that. You can be a sook for the rest of your life and I'll do whatever you want."

He was perfect. Your baby was perfect. It was all too good to be true. Real life just wasn't like that, surely.

"What are you doing?" you asked as Van picked up Duke and moved him across the bed. "You can't just put him on the end of the bed. What if he rolls off?"

"He's not on the end, Y/N. He's fine. He's all bundled up."

Van was right; Duke was nowhere near the edge of the mattress but still looked strange. Discarded, even.

"Van,"

"He's fine. Come here."

Van pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you. You were in one of his t-shirts and some old leggings that had become pyjamas when the stitching became a little loose. It felt nice to be in soft casual clothing, wrapped around Van’s jeaned legs. He ran his hands down your spine, pressing hard and rubbing the small of your back. The pressure was good, soothing. Van rested his chin on your head and you let yourself breath for a moment. The quiet was good. You knew Van would be alert, watching Duke, keeping you both safe.

"Van, can I ask you something?" He hummed a low affirmative. "Promise you won't get mad?"

"Yeah,"

"When's the last time you showered? You smell like baby puke."

Van snorted out a laugh. "That ain't me. It's the shirt,"

"What?" you squeaked, sitting up quickly. Van looked down at his shirt, holding it out to inspect.

"Yeah. Forgot about that 'till just then. Was meant to change, just forgot, I guess," he said, pointing to a weird whiteness on the black of his t-shirt. "Cleaned most off with paper towel. All good."

You stayed sitting up, just staring at him and shaking your head. He grinned.

"Did I ruin the moment?" he asked.

Before you could reply, Duke started to squirm. He was a second away from crying. Aaaaaand there it was. Van got out of bed and picked him up.

"Hungry, little man? I did try to feed ya," Van told him, his tone all sassy as he side-eyed you and walked from the room.

"Just wait until there's more of them!" you yelled after him. Waiting for a response, you listened to the lack thereof. It was the first, albeit joking, mention of the next baby in line. Maybe he just didn't hear.

The painkillers and the tea were doing their job; making you calm and sleepy. You settled back down in bed, knowing that with the reduction of pain you should probably have got up and helped Van. You could have put a load of laundry on. Cooked Van something to eat while he did everything else. Taken Little Mary for a walk. Instead, you let the haze take over. Eyes closed, sleep came. Dreams of the baby girl to come.

…

"Where's Daddy? Huh? Where'd he go?"

When Duke was born you had been very holier-than-thou about not speaking to him using baby babble. Pronounce words fully (or as fully as anyone could with their thick accents) and Duke would be picking up speech in no time. Despite that, you found yourself quickly descending into high pitch tones and questions punctuated with 'huh?' It may not have been baby babble, but it was enough for Van to smirk at you and call you a hypocrite.

You had just woken up from a sleep in to find the bed empty. Straight to Duke's room, he was awake and rolling about in his cot happily. You asked him where his father was but he just looked at you with blue eyes and ginger-tinged long eyelashes. You cuddled him for a while then put him on the floor to explore. There were sounds in the house, Van wasn't alone out in the living spaces, and Duke wanted to find him.

"Where's he hiding?" you asked again, walking along behind him. He stopped close to where the sounds were coming from. A little lost, he sat on his baby butt and waited for help. Van and… Larry… it was Larry, hadn't heard you. However, you could hear them.

"Don't get me wrong, mate, I fuckin' love it. Always what I dreamed of. Better than, even. Y/N is… I don't know how she does it, you know? I couldn't even make up a girl as good as she is,"

"She's loyal," Larry added.

"Yeah. I trust 'er, you know? Like, when I'm gone, I trust that even though it's sad n' all that, that she ain't stewing about it at home. She ain't walkin' 'round regretting being with me,"

"I regret bein' with you,"

"Yeah. Biggest mistake of ya life being my best mate!" Van laughed. Every time he referred to Larry as his 'best' mate, your heart grew in size. It was too cute and you didn't know any other adult man that talked the way Van did about friends.

They stopped talking to laugh and presumably throw pillows or flick tea at each other, then Larry started again. "So, you're happy?"

"Yeah. It's all perfect. Me, Y/N, and Duke. So, I've been thinkin' then, maybe I was wrong about havin' a million kids. Maybe us three is golden?"

"You say that now but I reckon you'll want another. Whenever you talk about it you always make it sound like you want a baby girl," Larry replied.

Van paused and it was only then you realised you shouldn’t have stopped to listen. It was only then you realised you were in pain. You looked down at Duke, but he was gone. Heart skipping a beat, you moved to panic, but one of his greeting sounds was audible. He'd found the guys. You followed through into the lounge.

Larry had already picked Duke up and was saying a hello and patting his hair down gently. He'd need a tube of glue if he was going to be successful in taming the baby's hair. It was always sticking up, curled in all the perfectly wrong places. Neither you or Van could ever work out where the curls came from.

Van looked at you and you knew he was wondering how much you heard, because you knew he'd worked out you wanted another baby in the very not too distant future. There had been too many jokes and casual questions. Smiling at him and plonking yourself down on his lap, he grinned back and was naïve enough to think you heard nothing. You kissed his forehead and rested your head on his.

"Larry," you said in a hello. He smiled up at you.

"Y/N. How ya been?"

Heartbroken.

A little sick.

Scared.

Guilty.

Take your pick.

"Not too bad. You?" you answered.

The day went on and while Larry was over and Van and Duke were happy with his attention, you didn’t let yourself feel it. You promised yourself it would be okay, just not that day.

…

There is a horrible satisfaction in having the sky pour with rain when you are feeling particularly miserable. The red eyeliner wearing, My Chemical Romance listening teenager came alive in you and your moping about the house took on new life. 

As requested, you heated up milk for Duke and delivered it to Van in Duke's room. Unlike his mother, Duke hated storms and could only be settled by cuddles from Van and warm milk.

Standing in the doorway of his bedroom, you watched Van rock in the chair and sooth his firstborn son. His only born.

"You wanna talk?" Van whispered, glancing over at you briefly.

"About what?" You could hear the sulkiness in your tone.

"Whatever it is that's got you upset?"

Shaking your head no, you walked away to sit at a window and watch the rain fall. Oh, misery.

…

A couple of days later, the bad weather broke and sunshine warmed up concrete roads and flower petals. Van found you in bed and threw himself down on it.

"Gonna go for a walk to the dog park. You wanna come or are ya still being a sook 'bout something?" he asked. He finished the sentence with a nervous grin. Asking you straight up what was wrong hadn't worked. Maybe he could joke you into submission.

"I'm not a sook,"

"If the frowny face fits, love," he replied.

"That doesn't even make sense."

Van sighed, made an expression of slight annoyance but mostly amusement, and got off the bed. "Is that a no to the walk?"

"I think I'm getting my period," you said in a lie. Lucky Van didn't keep track of menstruation cycles.

"Okay. When I get back I'll do a hot water bottle for ya. Don't want you to be double moody."

He ran from the room before you could say anything back. He brought Duke in for a goodbye then left the house with Little Mary and little Duke and all the warmth. All that was left for you was emptiness. Oh, misery!

…

The games you played with Little Mary were the same as those played with Duke. Well, not all of them. Some worked to amuse the baby, though. He loved to fetch. In the beginning, Van tried to stop you from playing it. "He ain't a dog!" he'd cry. When Duke giggled and crawled manically across the floor to retrieve the thrown teddy though, Van gave in.

"Can I play?" Van asked one Monday night. He sat on the floor of the lounge room opposite you. Duke was off behind the couch collecting the teddy.

"Thought you hated this game?" you asked.

Van shrugged and smiled as Duke returned, delighted to see his father had appeared from nowhere. "Don't hate you guys though."

Like there always was, music played out and transformed the silence into something warm and magic. You threw the teddy to Van, watching Duke track it through the sky. He loved it, bouncing on his butt and clapping. Van threw it to him but he simply returned it to you and crawled off in preparation for fetch. Upon his return, Duke gave the teddy to Van, who threw it over near the bookcase.

You were both watching him completely in love with Van spoke again. "Y/N? What's wrong?"

There were two ways to play it. You could continue on living in a perpetual bad mood. Or, you could just tell him.

"I want another baby… now or, ah, soon."

After you said it, you looked over at Van to read a reaction. To your complete surprise, he was confused. Trademark head tilt, eyebrows furrowed, Van McCann confusion. He started to ask, "Why's that made you s- oh." Why had that made you sad? His confusion was killed when the memory hit him hard. "You did hear me and Larry talking." A nod yes and his face broke into sadness.

Duke returned and looked at Van. He made an annoyed 'humf' sound and gave you the teddy instead. You suspected Van would never be allowed to play the game again. He simply was not doing what Duke wanted.

"Oh! Thank you!" you said to Duke in a super happy voice. He grinned. "Go again?" He bounced, and you threw it hard through the open doorway, hoping it would land down the hall and you'd have a minute.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N," Van said, crawling over to you and wrapping you up in an awkward on-ground hug. It wasn't any more awkward than the problem itself. You were sad. Van was sad. Neither of you had done anything wrong, but still there was no clear solution.

"It's okay,"

"No. I should've just talked to you 'bout it. We should have planned better, so you knew when… or so I'd… know… I don't know. I'm sorry, okay? I don't want you to be sad. I'm sorry I called you a sook and I didn't help better. Just thought you were…"

"Being a sook?" you finished with a small smirk.

"Babe! I'm trying! Being dead serious!"

"I know. I'm sorry too. I should have just talked instead of gone all emo," you said with a shrug. Duke made a confused-yell from somewhere. He'd lost himself again. Both you and Van immediately turned to the sound. "Can you get him?" Van nodded, kissed you quickly, then left the room.

Breathing out, you wiped a rouge tear away and stood up. It would have been nice to say you felt all healed, but you didn't. Your baby girl was still waiting to exist, but the catalyst conversation would have to wait. Duke was calling.

…

"Van!" you screamed and ran to the kitchen bench, whisking Duke off it and holding him tight. He had mashed banana in both hands and promptly grabbed hold of your hair, giving you a conditioning mask that you'd have to wash out later. Van turned from where he was mixing pancake batter in a bowl.

"Oh no! We only had the one banana," he said casually, seeing the yellow carnage. "Think we got some blueberries in here,"

"Van! You fucking serious?!"

He stopped at looked at your panicked, angry face. "What's wrong? Why you swearing in front of him?"

"He was standing on the bench!"

"Yeah? He's getting big. Need to do stuff like that while he can. I was watching,"

"No, you weren't!"

Duke giggled. He'd never seen people fight or yell, so the few times one of you freaked out didn't spell scary to him. Van grinned and scrunched his nose up at his son.

"She's right mad at us," he whispered to him.

"I'm not mad at him. I'm mad at you. He could have fallen! Especially with this fucking slippery banana,"

"Okay. Okay. You're right. I'm sorry, yeah? Really. He can stay on the ground and miss all the fun and be safe, okay?" Van said, still smiling. He took Duke and put him on the ground. You both looked down at him as he looked up at you with a dismayed expression. "Blame ya mum, kid." You looked over at Van. "Sorry! Look! I'm making you pancakes! Was gonna do breakfast in bed!"

You shook your head and walked off to wash the fruit from your hair.

"Such a worrier, that one. Amazing she wants another of you to worry about so soon," Van said to Duke as he probably put him back on the bench as soon as you weren't looking.

…

"Van?" His head turned to face you. In his little home studio, he'd not been disturbed for hours. "Can we talk?"

His office chair spun around and he held his arms out. You crossed the carpeted space and let him sit you on his lap.

"Been waiting," he said in a small, kind tone.

Your lips were going dry from the amount of anxious chewing going on. Coincidently, you couldn't locate all your favourite chapsticks. A small bad thing, but a bad thing nonetheless. A bad thing like wanting a baby when your partner doesn't.

"I want another one. I want a baby girl,"

"Y/N… Love, there ain't no way of guaranteeing a girl," he replied. You looked at him with an expression that said that isn't the point. Van sighed and held you tighter. "Look, Duke's perfect and lovin' him is easy. I love being a dad; you know that, yeah? But… it's hard. It's hard being away and it's hard being here too. It's already been really fucking tricky to keep the band going while havin' him. I don't know if another one now is smart, for like, the band,"

"But… don't we come first?"

Van's lip quivered and his eyebrows slopped into unbearable sadness. His fingers twitched and his arms snaked around you even tighter. In your head, you heard a memory of Van’s voice saying, 'I'm gonna burst,' like he had announced when purposefully standing between elevator doors one time, laughing as they closed on him.

"Of course you do. Fuck. Yes, baby… I just…" and when he couldn't use his painful energy to articulate anything, he stood, lifting you off him and standing you up in the process. He tried to stand still before you, but it hurt him. Van paced and breathed hard and he was thinking a million things at once. "Let me just… think about it, okay? I'll… look at dates we have planned… I don't know… I don't think it will… Let me think 'bout it for a bit?" he asked, stopping to look at you.

"Promise? Promise you'll try?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Course. Come 'ere," he said, pulling you into a hug that he hoped could feel like a promise.

…

That night, Van couldn't be separated from Duke. You made dinner as a family, letting Duke attempt to stir with a wooden spoon. Little Mary was thrilled, as the flying scraps and splashes of food the landed on the floor could be quickly claimed as her own ten-course meal. After dinner, there was teddy bear throwing and lavender scented bath time, then a heavy goodnight kiss. You stood in the doorway of Duke's room and watched Van linger next to the cot, unable to tear himself away.

You'd already stacked the dishwasher and cleaned your makeup away by the time Van found you settling under the blankets of your bed.

"He's asleep," he said in a low, tired voice. You nodded and watched him disappear in the ensuite.

Van took longer than usual in the shower and you thought he was still trying to work out what to say to you. He was looking for the compromise. The inbetween. The halfway happy. The fact of the matter was that there simply wasn't one.

When he emerged, he appeared in a cloud of steam with messy wet hair and a perfectly unsettled expression. He climbed into bed and you wriggled over to him like you did every night. And, like he did every night, he entwined himself around you like he needed the contact to live.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I really am," he whispered, then kissed the top of your head. You could feel the wetness of his hair bleeding out onto the pillow.

"I know. It's okay. It's… It's nobody's fault. We'll work it out,"

"Yeah. We will. We will work it out. I promise. I love you too much to not make you happy, no matter what. I love you so, so much,"

"I love you too. It will be okay."

It was hard to tell was more unconvinced.


End file.
